


Mack the Knife

by readerthirst (poo)



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Gender Neutral, Karaoke, M/M, Reader Insert, thought of spence listening to this song and couldnt resist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 16:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poo/pseuds/readerthirst
Summary: You make the most out of being coerced into karaoke, and the night doesn't end half bad.





	Mack the Knife

After a sleepy day of catching up on paperwork, Morgan decides it’s one of your team bonding nights. This means getting shitfaced with your coworkers at BAU’s unofficially designated bar, which was nice enough for Rossi to tolerate and hip enough to attract eye candy for Morgan and Garcia both. Surprisingly, even Reid agrees, who usually avoided these kinds of interactions like the plague. You’ve been at the BAU for almost a year, and you still can’t get a good read of Reid. He’s definitely eccentric, but has a subtle, kind charm in his mannerisms and… you’d deny it to your last breath to anyone who asked, but he’s really, very attractive. Cute and your type. Of course, you haven’t acted on your silly crush. You’re still relatively new to the team, and you don’t want to jeopardize the dynamics. Plus it’s not like Reid is receptive to any tentative flirting you may or may not have attempted. You brush away thoughts of using this opportunity to get close to Reid. You’re determined to have a good time with your team tonight. Garcia offers you a ride, which you gladly accept, because you are definitely not planning to drive.

When you arrive, you’re greeted by loud- and decidedly amateur- live music. You didn’t know it was karaoke night, but you suspect Morgan did. You quickly order a round of drinks as the team settles into a booth, rather comfortably sandwiched between Morgan and Reid. The boy wonder seems content to sip water and offer an occasional witty comment. Morgan thumps your back after you down shots together, and you’re already feeling its effects by the warmth and the surge of affection for your BAU family. After a few rounds, Hotch makes an excuse to leave. JJ, you think, must be at the bar with Rossi. Garcia turns to Morgan excitedly, dragging him out of the booth, and suddenly it’s just you and Reid in the booth when you hear their voices amplified through the microphone. As it is, you’re just drunk enough to laugh and clap along to her and Morgan’s salacious duet. The singing is awful, and their improvised performance is… worse? So bad it’s good? Incomprehensible, yet endearing and familiar? The alcohol helps. Even Reid is smiling, ducking his head shyly when Garcia points to him while belting a particularly suggestive verse. The song finally ends, and you cheer enthusiastically. 

“(Y/N)! Come up here!”

“Come on up, baby!” Morgan and Garcia call for you, and you shove through the crowd to give them both a hug. Instead, Garcia shoves the mic into your hands and shout, “Your turn!” Leaving you alone on the makeshift stage.

Oh, you would get your revenge on them later, but right now you were happy and intoxicated and you think about Reid watching you and his quiet laugh. You scroll through the song selections, not recognizing a majority of them, but thankfully they have some older classics. One title makes you grin, and you pick it without hesitating, waving at Garcia as the song opens.

_ Oh, the shark has pretty teeth dear _ __   
_ And he shows 'em, pearly white _ __   
_ Just a jack knife has Macheath dear _ _   
_ __ And he keeps it way out of sight

_ When that shark bites with his teeth, dear _ __   
_ Scarlet billows they begin to spread _ __   
_ Fancy white gloves though has Macheath dear _ _   
_ __ So there's never, never one trace of red

You sing to the upbeat swing rhythm the best you can, forgetting a few words and laughing through others. Morgan hoots, and you think Reid is laughing, making your face hotter than it already is. If a song about a notorious, serially murdering highwayman isn’t appropriate for an impromptu BAU karaoke night, you don’t know what is. You close your eyes and sway with the jazzy tune. It’s over more quickly than you expect, and you’re embarrassed for maybe getting carried away, but still flushed with adrenaline and alcohol. Hurrying off back into the booth, you shove Morgan in the arm and chide,

“It was very rude of you to spring that on me! If you wanted to see me embarrass myself so bad, you could have at least done it privately.” You’re smiling too much for Morgan to take you seriously, but he pretends to be hurt anyway. You don’t expect Reid to cut in.

“Actually, (Y/N), I don’t think you embarrassed yourself at all. Mack the Knife has a history of improvisations that make each performance special. It evolved from a last minute introduction for the titular Macheath in a murder ballad, opening in Berlin. Of course, jazz is a genre characterized by experimentation and the unique styles of each artist. Did you know Ella Fitzgerald, sometimes called the Queen of Jazz, won a Grammy award for her improvised scar performance of this song in Berlin?”

You stare at Reid for a second. “Of course you like jazz, you perfect, sexy genius,” you blurt, deeply regretting it as you spoke. You hide your face in your hands, where you can pretend not to hear Garcia squealing. Your heart is pounding like a festival drum. God, you’re overreacting, it’s making it worse, and your ribs feel like they’re being wrung out. Reid doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he laughing it off?

“Let’s give these two lovebirds a minute, bunny,” Morgan says, pulling Garcia to dance. When you peek over your fingers, Reid is still there, gawking at you like you’ve sprouted horns. You feel less nervous, more defensive now.

“What?” 

“I… You think I’m sexy?” Reid questions disbelievingly.

“I never said anything of the sort,” You cross your arms. That doesn’t work against a profiler. You know you’re projecting textbook tells, and you don’t feel any better.

“That doesn’t work. Eidetic memory,” Reid taps his temple. You shrug, try to play it off.

“Sure, you’re sexy. Hot nerd. Some people are into that,” you force a flirty smile.

“Do some people include you?” This was it- you didn’t want to lie to him, not really. You bite your lip.

“Yeah. Yes, it does include me. You’re… really handsome, and kind, and you make me laugh more often than I’m used to. I like being around you, and I’m attracted to you, and I think it’s because you’re a really, really good guy,” you confess, looking down at your hands. The words seem to tumble out of you, as if they’d been building up for the last 8 months. “It’s not- it’s just a silly crush. I wasn’t going to say anything, and I don’t want to make things weird. You don’t have to, um, say anything. It’s okay.” Your face is really, really warm. You hope you’re not tearing up, because alcohol softens your tough old heart, and you’re not sad. Hopefully Reid doesn’t hate you for this- you look, and he looks just as stunned as before.

“Er… Reid, are you… are we still good?” You ask quietly.

Reid closes his mouth which had fallen open sometime during your confession. He seems to be blushing, which is, huh. You’re getting more nervous. Just as you’re about to say something else, he speaks.

“Please, call me Spencer,” he rushes.

“Ah, okay. Spencer, are we good?” You carefully watch his face. You can’t really tell what he’s thinking- if he’s thinking, if it’s of you-

“We should go out,” Spencer blurts.

“We’re at a bar- you want to go outside? Let me get my coat,” you say, getting confused.

“No, I meant,” Spencer clears his throat, “we should get dinner. Together. I’d like to take you out on a date.”

“Oh,” This time, you’re the one who’s flabbergasted. Your eyes wide, you try to process what he said… What he meant… Spencer was waiting for your reply, and you can’t seem to say anything because your bones feel like they’re buzzing with happiness. A smile begins to lift the corners of your mouth.

“I would also like that. Very much,” You say, standing up and collecting your jacket.

“Where are you going?” Spencer asks you, also smiling.

“To get dinner. Join me?”

“Yeah.”

You leave a few bills for the tab while Spencer shrugs on his own jacket. You don’t link arms or anything like that, but you’re standing a lot closer than you would have before, and you leave the bar together, ignoring Garcia and Morgan- and even Rossi- whistling and cheering.

**Author's Note:**

> so... i haven't actually seen criminal minds, i'm just in love with the doc, and i love reader inserts. shame on me. if anything's horribly shallow or ooc, that's why.


End file.
